


Comfort

by ever_increasing_circles



Category: British Comedian RPF, Mock the Week RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-18
Updated: 2010-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-19 03:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ever_increasing_circles/pseuds/ever_increasing_circles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed Byrne, Chris Addison, a sofa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Any similarity between the fictional versions of the people portrayed here and the actual people is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).
> 
> Written for the kink meme of... a year or so ago? Byrne, Addison, cuddling. Something like that. In which I cheat by not writing kink for kink memes.

Chris had been thinking for quite some time now that Ed had, perhaps, had enough to drink. Ed, on the other hand, was quite adamant that he had had nowhere near enough to drink, that this was nothing near his limit, that Chris should open up and let loose and have some more and from the way Ed had practically turned off like a light on the sofa, Chris couldn't help the small unspoken thought of _I told you so_.

For all that Chris had said (or at least, tried to say), he supposed he'd left it somehow too late. Like being trapped with a cat on one's lap, Chris found himself caught under the light weight of Ed Byrne being a (supposed) lightweight. On the other side of the room, one of the actual cats of the house sat staring, flicking its tail with the certain kind of languid vehemence only a cat could manage; Chris stared back, knowing that cats simply didn't understand silent apologies. He sighed lightly, then stared down at his lap (and what occupied it); Ed lay with his head against the arm of the sofa, his upper back against Chris's legs and the rest of him haphazardly supported by displaced cushions. The clock ticked forth to the next inevitable hour; three o'clock in the morning...? That seemed about right, while not seeming right at all. Was it late or was it early? Chris couldn't decide. For sleeping, he supposed, it was indeed quite late. For staying up and entertaining guests, it was--... no, it was still quite late for that too, or at least would have been were it any _other_ guest. In this case, he was only surprised that Ed had fallen asleep so early, though he didn't sense that this was a particularly deep slumber. Indeed, when he jogged his knees lightly up and down, Ed stirred.

"Whassahmnnn..."

"Come on. If you're that tired, then it's off to bed with you."

This seemed to cause Ed to wake up further; he shifted until he was facing Chris directly. "... Who said I was tired...?"

"I _think_ you did, actually. Not so much the 'saying' part, more the 'falling asleep on me' part. I drew my own conclusions."

"Hmm." Ed threw his arms off the edge of the sofa, pushing his feet against the other armrest in what seemed to be quite a luxurious stretch. He yawned afterward, gazing up at Chris with an expression that was perhaps a touch more hazy than it could have been, but certainly more awake than he had been previously. "Maybe yer jus' comfortable."

"You flatter me."

There was a slight pause, then a reflex _ow--!_ as Ed elbowed Chris quite suddenly in the side. "... I dunno though, you're not _that_ comfortable. Bit of a scrawny fucker, aren'tcha?"

Chris rocked his knees harder that time, attempting to jettison Ed from the sofa entirely. "Oh what, because _you_ can talk...!"

"At least I've got some meat on my bones, Addison--! All your puberty just went into yer upward climb, an'I don't think it ever stopped..."

At that, Chris gave up trying to be in any way subtle and instead made to push Ed from the sofa, though not before hands snaked around his waist and pulled him over and down at the same time. Chris supposed he could have stopped himself if he really wanted to, but a few moments of thought brought him to the decision that he didn't _really_ want to, and so followed Ed in that slow fall to the carpet. Chris steadied himself with one arm out against the sofa cushions and his other hand against the coffee-table, its edge perilously close to his face. "... You're trying to brain me with the table now, is that it?"

"Thought I'd bring you down a bit. Show you what life's like down here."

"I don't think you've really succeeded though, have you? If you really think about it, then--"

"Do you _ever_ just shut up?"

"Again, I don't think that's particularly an accusation you can be levelling towards--"

"You and your _words_." Ed responded to this by grabbing Chris by the wrists and fidgeting the two of them in the small space between table and sofa until their positions were reversed, Ed now straddling Chris and staring down at him with some kind of victorious expression. "Okay?" Ed let himself fall, his head now against Chris's chest. He pushed his hands slightly beneath Chris's shoulders, as if holding him in place. "That good enough for ya?"

"I think I preferred the sofa, to be perfectly honest with you."

Ed leant up again, grabbing cushions from the sofa, attempting to shove them around and under Chris's body. "Never satisfied, are you? Lift your head."

"Ed, I'm not--"

"Just do it, will ya? I'm tired."

"I don't see what this has got to do with--" Chris sighed. "Fine, fine..." He did so, allowing Ed to tuck the cushion beneath his head. There was silence after that, as Ed attempted to make himself comfortable on the mixture of cushions and Chris Addison. He eventually stilled, his breathing becoming somewhat more measured. Chris stared up at the ceiling, "... Thought I wasn't comfortable enough for you."

"Never said that."

Chris let his lips curl in a small, wry smile, while he knew that Ed wouldn't see. "What was it you said, that I was a 'scrawny fucker'? 'Not _that_ comfortable'?"

Ed didn't move while he spoke. "Yeah. Nothin' like what you said."

"Same thing."

"Not really." A slight movement, as Ed's tone softened. (Chris had his own fancies, but supposed it mostly through lethargy.) "You said you weren't comfortable enough for me."

"Mm."

"I can put up with a lot." Slower breathing, Ed's voice almost a mumble. "Yer comfortable _enough_. For me. Just."

Chris chuckled softly, "That's great praise there, Ed. I'll treasure it."

There was no reply after that; Chris put one hand behind his head and the other on Ed's shoulder, wondering if they'd really be here the whole night... perhaps he'd let Ed get away with it for an hour or two, then try to persuade him up the stairs once more. While considering this, Chris heard a soft jangle from elsewhere in the room and watched as a dark, fuzzy shape approached to investigate the strange placement of humans in front of the sofa. The cat displayed no hesitation at climbing Chris to a point that Ed didn't occupy, taking that space comfortably for itself; Chris felt the uncomfortable pressure of paws at awkward angles before glancing up to see a purring ball of contented feline settled neatly against him. He couldn't help but think _not you as well_ , but supposed that he didn't _really_ mind.

(And as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall into some kind of half-sleep, Chris couldn't stop the thought _I'm sure other people are more comfortable--_ , but then realised this one of the first evenings in a while where he hadn't felt the need to apologise for not being _him_ , and felt some small step of progress for that.

He really would treasure it.)


End file.
